


it aches, softly

by Vilchen



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Domestic Fluff, Don’t copy to another site, Fluff, M/M, Makkachin is the best dog, Plot What Plot, Sleepy Cuddles, just soft bois loving each other, st petersburg husbands
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-30
Updated: 2019-07-30
Packaged: 2020-07-27 12:53:28
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20046346
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Vilchen/pseuds/Vilchen
Summary: It feels right, somehow, to stay close like this. With Victor's arms around him and the sound of his deep, even breaths right next to Yuuri's ear it's easy to forget about time and responsibilities. Here, time is measured by their own heartbeats, with no deadline in sight.Or: I just really wanted to write some sleepy cuddles :3c





	it aches, softly

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote some sleepy cuddles two months ago, posted it, reread it yesterday and completely scrapped it. This is the new, improved sleepy cuddles fic I need to melt myself into a puddle.
> 
> I proofread this once, lol. *cries*

Victor jogs the last four flights of stairs it takes to reach their brand new apartment with the final box lifted like a trophy, a token of his hard work and resilience through the darkest of times when the moving truck was still full and Yuuri sent him _a look_ when he pushed the elevator button. He is now intimately acquainted with every step of the stairs in the way only an idiot or a masochist can be, but he’s also attractively sweaty, which is a convenient consequence in the face of his new mission.

He leaves the box on the kitchen counter next to the other ones, ruffles Makkachin’s sleepy head, and sets his sights on the bedroom door where he’d last seen Yuuri struggling with the bedsheets. The plan is to discreetly flex until Yuuri swoons and slithers close with his arms around Victor's neck to propose they break in the bed, and then of course, Victor will whisper sweet nothings into his ear until Yuuri can’t help but catch him in a hot, breathtaking—

He’s asleep.

Yuuri lays face down on top of the sheets, sprawled out like a particularly adorable jelly fish and clearly dead to the world.

Victor lingers at the door for a moment before he steps in and nudges Yuuri onto his side. He slides his glasses off, places them on top of another unopened box by the window, and starts peeling off the cute poodle socks Victor got him after the GPF. He doesn’t stir, probably won’t for at least a couple of hours, so Victor digs out a blanket he remembers storing in the box labeled _scarves_ and gently drapes it over him.

He turns off the lights, closes the door silently and retreats back to the kitchen. There’s a lot of full boxes to empty and empty cabinets to fill, so Victor pulls a hair tie from his wrist to tie back his bangs and rolls up his shirtsleeves. He has some work to do.

***

Yuuri blinks his eyes open and sees nothing but blurry shapes and colors. He sits up to feel around for his glasses—dislodging the blanket tucked around him in the process—but comes up empty. He can see boxes piled along the walls, but his glasses could easily camouflage themselves among the blurry brown color, so Yuuri abandons the idea ang gets up. He peels off his pants, because _ugh,_ and escapes from the bedroom on bare feet.

He finds Victor in the kitchen among opened boxes and full cabinets. Victor leans over the counter to get the last mugs—and that’s a lovely view—before he stows them on the highest shelf. Yuuri seizes the opportunity and sneaks up from behind to wrap his arms around his middle. Victor tenses for a moment before he places his own hands over Yuuri’s. Yuuri can feel his laugh from within his chest.

“Slept well?”

Yuuri hums a response into his shirt and leans his full weight on Victor, who doesn’t even budge the well-built bastard. They stand still for a couple of blissful minutes in which Yuuri nearly dozes off again and Victor rubs small, gentle circles on the back of his hand.

Someone knocks on the door, and Victor attempts to gently disentangle himself from Yuuri’s death grip. His efforts prove futile, and in the end he has to drag Yuuri with him to the door.

The delivery girl on the other side looks confused for a second when Victor opens and there’s an extra set of arms around him, but is quick to school her expression into something pleasant. Victor tips her extra for that.

“Yuuri, _zolotse_, you have to let go so I can carry the bags,” he says. Yuuri blinks open his eyes and muffles a yawn into his shirt.

“What bags?” He mumbles and lets Victor slip away from him.

Then he sees the white take-out bags he’s holding, smelling like deep fried ecstasy dipped in carbs. It’s not katsudon, but it’s the closest thing he’s smelled since Nationals _and_ _Victor_ _is_ _the_ _best—_

Yuuri jumps on him, locks his legs around his waist and ignores the way Victor almost topples over and laughs into the kiss. They stop once Yuuri remembers the food—he refuses to let it go cold, even if Victor pouts through the whole meal. Yuuri knows exactly how to make it up to him afterwards.

* * *

Yuuri locks himself into the apartment and kneels down to unhook the leash from Makkachin’s collar. As soon as he’s free, he pads into the kitchen to fuzz around his food and water bowls. Yuuri follows and makes a face when he sees he forgot to refill his water this morning. Victor is the one who usually does that.

“Sorry, Makka, I didn’t mean to,” he whispers, because he didn’t turn on any of the lights when he entered, and it somehow feels wrong to speak louder than a whisper in a dark, empty apartment. He refills both bowls and adds a treat to apologize; one of those expensive ones Victor insists on buying and Makka adores.

Later, when both he and Makkachin have eaten and settled in for bed—Yuuri with a pillow propped up behind his back and Makka with his head on Yuuri’s lap—his laptop starts ringing. He hits ‘accept call’ and Victor’s face appears on the screen.

“Hi,” he says and chuckles when Makkachin immediately perks up at his voice and turns to pant happily at the screen. Victor smiles softly and coos at him, but his shirt is rumpled, his hair lays flat against his forehead, and Yuuri can see his suitcase open but unpacked in the background.

“Busy day?” He asks.

“Hmmm... The meeting was boring, but at least we’ve come to an agreement about the whole coach and competitor thing.”

“And?” He asks, smiling even though he technically isn’t in on the secret.

“We’re all set to go, darling,” Victor answers with a wink. “I’m gonna reclaim my records _and_ coach you into break them.”

Yuuri chuckles and tightens his grip on Makkachin. They bought the bed so they could fit two people and a dog, but it just feels... cold.

“I— I'm gonna marry you after Worlds,” he declares, looking down at the golden band around his finger. “I’ll do my best at Four Continents too, of course, but I want to bring you home a gold from Worlds.”

The laughing lines around Victor’s eyes soften, and Yuuri is almost glad for the miles separating them. Such an achingly sweet look would knock him out completely if it weren’t for the screen mellowing the effect.

“I look forward to it,” he says, pale lashes framing those blue eyes Yuuri adores.

They talk until Victor can’t hide away his yawns anymore and Yuuri gently urges him to rest.

“It’s just a couple more days.”

Yuuri blows him a kiss through the screen and Victor is too much of a sap not to catch it, almost 400 miles away.

Then it’s just him, Makkachin and a bed that shouldn’t feel as cold as it does. Yuuri packs away his glasses, turns off the light and lets Makkachin cuddle close. After some internal debate he pushes away his own pillow and snags Victor’s instead, hoping that the smell of expensive conditioner and Armani aftershave might lull him to sleep faster.

***

They meet again two days later, and in between breathy kisses and quiet exhales of _I missed you_, there’s a moment where Victor rests his head on Yuuri’s shoulder and sighs into his neck. Yuuri raises a hand to the back of his head and lets the silver tresses slide between his fingers.

“Couldn’t sleep well?”

“Nah. The bed is too cold without you, darling.”

* * *

The night sky covers St. Petersburg like lulling blanket with only tiny pinpricks of light from the stars and the streetlights to navigate through the streets. It’s dark in their apartment too, except for the pale light from the laptop screen illuminating Yuuri’s face. Both Makkachin and Victor have retired for the night, and although he’s not finished with his work, Yuuri is ready to do the same.

He shuts off his laptop, rubs his eyes and uses the light from his phone to navigate to the bathroom, brushes his teeth and pads on socked feet to the bedroom. The door stands slightly agape and he feels momentarily bad for not joining Viktor as soon as he promised.

He intends to sneak in, shuffle under the covers and go to sleep without disturbing anyone, but it’s not as easy as it sounds when Victor is a notorious light sleeper when he wants to be and otherwise a heavier sleeper than Yuuri's dead grandmother.

Still, Yuuri tries to be as quiet as possible when he opens the door just short of spilling light onto Victor’s face. He undresses, steps over Makkachin's dog bed and attempts to slip unnoticeably under the covers. Victor's breath remains deep and steady—and for a moment, Yuuri thinks he has succeeded.

The sheets rustle as a warm arm loops itself around his waist, and Victor exhales a breath right into Yuuri’s neck, creating a trail of goosebumps down under his shirt.

"You’re late," he murmurs, voice still heavy with sleep and curling oddly around the consonants.

"Sorry," he whispers back and turns to tuck his head under Victor's chin. "I had to finish some work."

Victor grumbles and tightens his grip around Yuuri's waist like a vice, pressing them closer together.

"Sleep now, work later."

"Yes, Vitya." He smiles and presses his lips into the closest patch of skin he can find; a collar bone, just as deserving of love as the rest of him.They fall asleep like that, with Victor’s cold feet tangled with Yuuri's warm ones, and with Yuuri breathing kisses into his skin until morning comes.

**Author's Note:**

> My original plan was to write three instances of sleepy cuddles in a real bed, but instead it turned into 'two times they wanted to cuddle, and the one time they got to'. Ops :)
> 
> Thank you for reading and feel free to yell(gently) at me in the comments!


End file.
